Take this Promise for a Ride
by blissfully ignorant
Summary: *chapter 1 is bad, but it'll get better* the sequel to wwmmlc.
1. chapter 1

~a/n: ta-da! The shockingly scandalous and mystical magical sequel to "walk with me my little child"!! Aren't you pleased? *giggles* Just to fill you in if you skipped that one, Violet finds out that Olaf is quite viciously obsessed with her after her captures the Bauldilare orphans. Then they run away and.oh hell, just read the damn story.  
  
T a k e T h i s P r o m i s e f o r a R i d e  
  
"Where exactly are we going?" Klaus panted. The three had been running for what felt like hours, and probably was, on very little food. Apparently, it was not customary for evil theater troupes to feed their prisoners. The bit they had been spared was from the hook handed fellow, who was quite fond of Sunny.  
  
"I don't know," Violet cried hopelessly, gasping for breath herself, "we just have to keep moving, that's all. Until we find someplace where we can find help."  
  
"Pardon me," Klaus pointed out, "but do I need to remind you that we are still wanted for Jacques Snicket's murder? Where ever we go, that will follow us. We'll be turned in the moment we reach civilization."  
  
"Maybe we'll meet more people who don't read the papers, like the VFD from before."  
  
"Maybe we'll all sprout wings and fly," Klaus spat, sitting heavily on the ground.  
  
"When did you get so cynical, Klaus? I remember you as an optimist."  
  
"I'm only cynical when I'm tired, hungry, or frustrated, and this moment meets all of those criteria."  
  
"Now is not the time to be cranky!" Violet hissed.  
  
"It is also not the time for wild optimism! We need to think things out a bit more carefully than just crossing our fingers and hoping for the best!"  
  
"STOP!!" Sunny shrieked tearfully.  
  
Klaus stood slowly, like he was about fifty years older than his 12 years, and picked her up. She sobbed into his shoulder for a little bit, then straightened and began chewing on his glasses.  
  
"Come on," Violet said, "we need a plan, yes, but we need to keep moving. They may notice at any minute we're gone." She knew, of course, that they wouldn't, but she didn't want her siblings to know that the whole time Olaf had been letting them escape. He had taken steps to ensure that they could get away, and she was even more terrified of what would happen when he found them again.  
  
"What if we tell them we're someone else? Disguise ourselves somehow."  
  
"How? We have nothing but the clothes on our back. We can't exactly provide an accurate disguise like that."  
  
"Hang on," Klaus said thoughtfully, and fell silent. He thought for quite a bit, and Violet wondered if he had fallen asleep walking. "I read a book once," he began, and Violet smiled to herself. Any time Klaus began a sentence with "I read a book once" a fairly good idea would soon follow. "It was a detective novel. In it there was a police officer who let an entire gang of murders go because one of them had a very good disguise. They didn't fit the description they had. I was thinking that maybe, if we told them Sunny was a little boy and changed ourselves just a bit, we wouldn't fit the description in the papers."  
  
"Do you think they'll fall for it?"  
  
"If they're daft enough to trust such a wildly inaccurate paper, they'll fall for that. Sunny, you are now Sammy. Violet, you're Veronica-"  
  
"No! I am sick of being called Veronica! You're Klaus, you're Sunny, and I'm Violet! VIOLET!!"  
  
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you can't stay Violet. Anyway, we can't call you Veronica, because that's what you were called in the paper. How about Violetta? It's close enough to Violet."  
  
Her eyes flashed open in the darkness. Violetta. That was what Olaf had called her more or less every time he came to talk to her. That was far too creepy. "No. No way. Victoria. Call me Victoria."  
  
She saw Klaus' glass flash in her direction. There was something about the way she said it that made him shudder. "Okay and I guess I'll be Kenny. Vickie, Sammy, and Kenny. Three runaways-no accused murderers, no criminals, just a couple of runaways. You think we can do that?"  
  
"We pretended to be attached at the hip. I think we can handle a simple name change."  
  
"Violet, put your hair up higher than you usually do. I'm sure I can do without my glass for a while.  
  
Violet reached into her pocket. "I lost my ribbon," she said.  
  
"It probably fell out of your pocket when we were being kidnapped a few weeks ago."  
  
"No, I was trying to think of a way to get down from the fire escape we were stuck on. My hair was up, but the next thing I remember is that my hair was in my face and I couldn't think straight."  
  
"You don't think that that half-crazed maniac stole your hair ribbon, do you?"  
  
Violet shrugged, but her heart was sinking. "Maybe."  
  
"Oh, Violet, this isn't good. This is very bad. I read an essay once, a case study on kidnap victims. Most kidnaps are premeditated, and the really dangerous obsessions usually include taking something that the victim was fond of. This one guy had a shrine of all this stuff he stole from her. A week after he managed to get her hairbrush she was found dead in the bathtub. One gunshot to the head-kapow! She's history."  
  
She suddenly felt her stomach turn over. There was something inherently wrong with this. "There is something inherently wrong with this," she said.  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
Klaus knitted his eyebrows. Violet took a few deep breaths. Sunny snoozed obliviously against Klaus' shoulder.  
  
In the dead of the night, they wandered on. 


	2. chapter 2

~a/n: can you believe that I am still giggling over the world "Violaf"? Do this be crazy or what? Goodness. Anyway, this chapter takes place a week after chapter 1. The children have been taken into a hotel, whose manager needs staff to help him take care of it in the off season. Violet fixes things and helps clean rooms, Klaus tends bar and keeps Mr. Winter's (the manager) personal library, and whatever needs separated Sunny can usually bite through. She spends most of her time in the kitchen tearing through cellophane. Everyone is rather happy for a while, but I didn't want to write all that out. I was eager to get into more Olaf n Violet-y goodness. Morp.  
  
C h a p t e r T w o  
  
The window was broken in room 123, and the room was freezing. Violet stood at on the dresser, examining the window. The mechanism seemed intact, but stuck somewhere. At her feet was a can of oil and a few bits of wire. Her hair was tied back in a bit of yellow cloth Mrs. Winter had given her. She tore a scrap off the corner of the cloth in her hair, pit a few drops of oil on it, and probed where she felt it was stuck. A moment later she shoved the window down. She giggled, remembering how long it had been since she fixed something just for the fun of it.  
  
"You have the cutest little girl giggle." A voice behind her said, and then mocked her blissful noise. In the darkened window, she saw the man's reflection behind her. It was a man with two eyebrows, and if she had looked at his ankle she probably would have seen makeup or high socks or any number of things covering the mark on his pale flesh. But she knew who it was.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she stammered, touching the cloth in her hair absently as she remembered the missing ribbon.  
  
"Did I not make myself clear when last we met? You run, I follow; you cry and I laugh evilly. And then we start this little routine all over-I discreetly insert myself into your residence, you tell them who I really am, no one believes you, I begin another of my evil plans, you three clever orphans thwart my plans, I get away just in time, you run away, and the cycle repeats itself. Nice little spiral dance, I like it. It's been comfortable, but it's not really as amusing as it once was. I don't enjoy this game as much anymore."  
  
Violet felt a heaviness in her throat. She tried to ask him a million things, such as "Why can't you leave us alone?" and "What the hell is wrong with you?" but all that came out was a weak little coo. "Why?"  
  
"Because I like you, Violet. You're a sweet little thing, gentle and kind. As I said before, you're a godsend." He took a step closer to her. "You're an angel to me. Pure, kind, soft, like white linen. I like that about you. I like everything about you."  
  
"You are a sick man," she said weakly.  
  
"That's probably true," he agreed, nodding his head pleasantly. He walked over to her and began toying with the stray bits of hair that had fallen over her face. He leaned forward and smiled.  
  
A loud thunk from room 223 above them startled them both. "Shit, I gotta get out of here." He crossed the room in three strides and turned back. "bye," he said, blowing her a kiss.  
  
She sat heavily on the floor. The words "deal with the devil" frolicked about in her mind looking for connection, but found nothing. She touched the little bits of her hair where his fingers had been and began to cry.  
  
"Hey Violet, you wanna mess around with Mr. Winter's car? You can probably fix it." He stuck his head in the door. "Violet-where--?" and he saw her there on the floor, holding the bits of her hair and crying uncontrollably.  
  
"He's back, Klaus. He was here," she sobbed hysterically as he crossed the room to where she sat. "He was here and he's going to kill us and we have to do something!!" she pulled at the strands of hair she was holding and sobbed into her brother's shoulder.  
  
"What happened here? Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," she said, pulling herself together enough to sit up and wipe her eyes hurriedly. "I guess I just panicked."  
  
"Is this about the hair ribbon? Let me know if anything else of yours turns up missing."  
  
"No, don't pull yourself into all this. I can take care of this. It's too dangerous."  
  
"Excuse me, but remember me? You, me, and Sunny could probably survive nuclear war. Between the three of us, we could probably do anything. No one else can help us. It's not like I'm breaking into his room or something, I'm just keeping tabs." He stroked her hair in what he hoped would be a comforting way.  
  
Violet tried her best to get through the day. When Mr. Winter waved a cheerful but tired goodnight, Violet went into the small bar room where Klaus was polishing glasses. There were few customers in the seven story hotel, and the room was empty accept for a young lawyer in a corner using a double bourbon to help him get through some very difficult books.  
  
"Can I get you something, ma'am?" Klaus asked in a knowlegable voice that was beyond his years.  
  
"No thanks. You sound like you've been doing this for ages."  
  
"Hey, I'm enjoying this bartending gig. I've met some fascinating people lately, and I have a lot of time to myself, to think. And read. Mr. Winter has an incredible library, I haven't read this well since we were with Justice Strauss-"  
  
"Klaus, you are an irrepressible bookworm."  
  
"Shh, Vickie, I'm Kenny!" he hissed urgently, glancing around the bar. The lawyer in the corner wailed in an agonized fashion and through his head against his book.  
  
"Right then. Where's Sammy?"  
  
"Skinning turnips for the cooks in the kitchen. You know, I really think we'll get on quite nicely here."  
  
"Assuming we can get Olaf out of here, and out of our lives, then sure."  
  
"Oh, right," Klaus looked guiltily at his hands, which were holding a whiskey glass. "I.I'm sorry I forgot, Violet. I know this really bothers you, but I just got so distracted and it slipped my mind."  
  
She shrugged. "It's okay. I can't say I blame you. I'm going to bed."  
  
When she reached her room and undressed for bed, she looked over at the nicely made bed and saw something that made her blood run cold.  
  
Her hair ribbon was lying on her pillow in a crumpled heap. 


	3. chapter 3

~a/n: holy pigsnot batman!! Mmmkay, my fine feathered friends, welcome to chapter 3. I'm enjoying this quite a bit. I just figured out my formatting error, so I can finally get this disturbing piece of literature to you. Sorry for the delay.  
  
C h a p t e r T h r e e  
  
It was a dark night, overcast and threatening rain. Violet changed quickly into her nightclothes and curled up in the big double bed she slept in. The Winters had offered them a hotel room to sleep in, and Violet had chosen one on the sixth floor at the end of the hall, room 665. The color scheme was soothing, and Violet found when she was in there she could almost forget Olaf's chilling last words.  
  
Almost.  
  
She fell asleep quickly, having exhausted herself trying to figure out what was wrong with Mrs. Winter's small space heater. She slept peacefully for three hours, never noticing the slight shifting at the foot of her bed where a dark shadow sat. The figure rose and crossed over to sit on the other side of the bed next to her.  
  
God, he thought, but she does look pretty in the moonlight. Despite the fact that he had returned her hair ribbon, her hair was still pulled back into the scrap of yellow fabric. He leaned very close to her ear and whispered, "Good morning."  
  
She woke gently, making a soft noise and yawning before her eyes opened slowly. She sat with a start, pulling her blanket up over her and wedging herself into the corner of the wall. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" she shrieked.  
  
"Relax, girl, it's not like I was planning to hurt you or anything."  
  
"GET OUT!" she squealed.  
  
"Calm the hell down, I just came to say hello, damnit. I checked in to the room across the hall a few days ago. It's rather ironic, because I didn't even know you were in this room--666 is my lucky number--but I broke in here the other night just to see if I still could. Picking hotel room locks is a skill that must be practiced, you see. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in here sound asleep, all serene and ethereal in the moonlight. So then the next night I snuck in here and returned your ribbon. I had to come and see you again tonight."  
  
Violet's head was spinning. She felt ill, dizzy, and all that really got through to her was the plain and simple knowledge that this man was very, very sick; just being alone with him in the darkened bedroom made her shake with fear. She meant to ask him if he was going to kill them, what he wanted from them. But all that could come out was, "Why won't you leave me alone?"  
  
He sighed in frustration. "I know that obnoxious little bookworm has explained to you what an obsession is, but do you understand the nature of obsession? Do you really know what it's like to have someone on your mind constantly without any logical explanation? I know this is unpleasant for you, but do you think it does me any good? Do you think I want to be fixated on someone who is little more than a child?"  
  
She was dumbfounded--she had never thought that he was any less than a willful participant in this queer relationship. But in the faint light filtering in the window his face looked tortured and angry. She felt that little twinge of pity for him stab at her heart.  
  
"Speaking of that little four-eyed snot, he's on the next floor, isn't he? Ironic that your sweet, innocent little brother is on the same floor as Esme."  
  
***  
  
"Ironic that your kind, angelic sister is on the same floor as Olaf," Esme said about twenty seconds after her lover astounded Violet with the same phrase on the floor below. "Wouldn't it just be horrible if something happened to that poor girl?"  
  
"You wouldn't dare," Klaus whispered from the bed of room 779. He was unfortunate enough to be roomed next to Esme, but this was no coincidence. He groped around on the little bedside table for his glasses.  
  
"Wouldn't I?" Esme said, her voice dripping a sugary sweetness. Klaus knew that tone had to be as dangerous as poison honey.  
  
Klaus put his glasses on and stared hard at her. She stared back at him, her face changing slowly from mocking kindness to a hard, cruel glare.  
  
"All this time," she said slowly, more to herself than Klaus, "I knew there was a reason why I hated you. More than any of you stupid orphans, it was always you that I loathed the most. And now I see why."  
  
"What?"  
  
Without another word she swept her hand forward, pulling a tuft of his hair and yanking his head to the left. "I'll kill this memory yet," she hissed, swinging her fist into his nose.  
  
~a/n2: hello brutality. I've always rather liked Klaus so I decided to center a side plot around him. If you disagree, please don't hurt me. 


	4. chapter 4

~a/n: this is when this business starts to get viciously questionable. No matter what seems to be happening here, THERE WILL BE NO SEX. None whatsoever. Flames will be violently ignored, so you may as well not waste your time and profanity. However, if you must you must. A quick thanks to Miss Luna, the "fine spice", for her vote of confidence. :)  
  
C h a p t e r F o u r  
  
Violet, Klaus, and Sunny worked hard that next day. Violet repaired furnaces, windows, and cabinets at a rapid fire pace, trying not to think of all the times Olaf had come into her room without her even knowing it; Klaus chose not to converse with the interesting people in the bar because he was rather busy keeping an eye on the various theater troupe members scattered about the booths and tables, watching him with a wary eye; Sunny bit and tore every turnip, box, and cellophane wrapper the kitchen staff supplied in an attempt to get her mind off the things she had heard her siblings talking over that morning. She had hardly understood any of it, but she could tell by their tones that they were quite distraught.  
  
"So on one end," Violet had said, "Olaf is obsessed with me, and I'm absolutely repulsed by him."  
  
"And on the other," Klaus finished with a sinking voice, "Esme hates me and I'm quite afraid of her."  
  
"Did she mention why she chose to beat the living daylights out of you?"  
  
"I caught something about someone I remind her of between the blows," Klaus said, rubbing the bruises on his face that he had been able to pass off to the Winters as having fallen out of bed that morning. "And I really do think she means to kill me." He looked terrified, and half of his face was purple and swollen.  
  
The day disappeared fast, and before they knew it Mr. and Mrs. Winters were ushering them up the broad stairway. "I don't want to go to bed," Violet said worriedly at the landing of the third floor.  
  
"Me neither." Klaus shuddered.  
  
"No," Sunny moaned, hugging Violet around the knees.  
  
"Maybe we should all sleep in the same room tonight," Klaus suggested, glancing around to see if anyone could be watching them, "then at least we won't be alone with them."  
  
"Sunny, you sleep with Klaus in his room. I have to talk to him. I think I can make him see reason."  
  
"Violet, remember who you're talking about! He could kill you!" he lowered his voice, his eyebrows knitted with worry. "And remember, there are worse things he can do than kill you. He's obsessive--you heard him say it yourself. I don't think you should be anywhere near him, much less alone!"  
  
Violet stared at him, her face very still. "Klaus, I have to do this. I have an idea."  
  
"I don't like the sound of this, but if you insist....Sunny and I will move into the next room so we can get to you if you need help. And Violet--BE CAREFUL."  
  
"Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
Still distrustful, Klaus and Sunny followed Violet to the sixth floor. Violet went into room 665, and the remaining two Bauldilares sighed heavily as they walked nervously into room 667.  
  
Violet sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. It was easy to be brave about what she wanted to do when she could see her sister and brother, when she knew she had absolutely no choice. But sitting alone in the dimly lit room all she felt was fear and anxiety. Could this even work? It was stupid, foolish, crazy....but what choice did she have?  
  
There are worse things he can do than kill you, Klaus had said, and that was the undeniable truth. She had hoped it wouldn't have to come to this-- she had never liked the idea of self sacrifice. But she knew Esme was capable of murdering them, and there was nothing she wanted from life more than to save her siblings. And so, she waited.  
  
She waited for hours on end, until quarter past one, when she saw a thin plastic strip about the size of a library card forced the door open. Olaf slipped in and turned to her, looking puzzled. "My dear Violetta, what are you still doing up? It's rather late."  
  
"I have to ask you a favor."  
  
He smiled. "For you, the world." He seemed cheerful.  
  
"Would you be willing to make a deal with me?" she tried to be charming and cute despite her fears.  
  
"What are the conditions?" he asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully and sitting in a comfortable chair near the bed.  
  
"I think Esme wants to kill Klaus and Sunny. If you let them go—" she took a deep, steadying breath and shook slightly, "—I'll go away with you."  
  
He stared at her for a very long time. His eyes felt oppressive, and she shifted under his gaze. "Stop staring at me."  
  
"My god," he whispered, rising and walking towards her slowly. "I can't understand your motivation. You cannot possibly be real." He knelt before her and set his hands on either side of her face. "I think I could probably love you." He pressed his lips to hers quickly, crazily, and her eyes widened. She had expected him to strike her in rage, cry out in frustration, or run from the room to go get his horrible troupe to get the hell out of there. To be truthful, she was expecting anything but the feeling of his thin lips on hers, the strange touch of his hands in her hair. He pulled away just as suddenly as he had moved forward, sitting back on his heels.  
  
"Sometimes," he whispered, placing his head in his shaking hands, "I scare myself."  
  
Violet felt herself shaking furiously. Her confusion was mounting—just what was going on here? "Wha-wha--?" she stammered faintly, bringing her hands to her lips as if to verify their existence.  
  
The thin man smiled faintly. "No deal."  
  
"B-but--"Violet was still shaking and she felt panic rising in her throat.  
  
"Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to go figure out just what the fuck I'm going to do." He got up and left, slamming the door behind him.  
  
A few minutes later Klaus stuck his head in the door, carrying Sunny in his arms. "Are you alright?"  
  
Violet made a soft frightened noise.  
  
"Oh God, what happened?" he cried, setting Sunny hastily in a chair and dashing to the bed to sit next to her. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Violet, talk to me!"  
  
Violet made a faint, fearful noise and pointed vaguely to her face. Her plan had failed--and she would focus on that, because she did NOT want to think about what had just transpired here.  
  
"Violet? VIOLET??!" Klaus pleaded frantically, shaking her shoulders. "Please wake up!"  
  
Sunny crawled out of the chair and over to her siblings, biting Violet's knee hard enough to snap her back into reality. Her eyes cleared and she shook her head. Her skin had been rather pale, and now the blood rushed to it. She held her head in her hands.  
  
"What happened?" Klaus demanded. "What did he do to you? I swear to god I'll--"  
  
"I'm fine," she said softly, looking down at the paisley bedspread, "Nothing happened."  
  
"Then what was wrong with you? Violet, I've read about things like this--I think you were slightly catatonic. You don't go into a mild catatonic trance when nothing happens."  
  
"It didn't work. Klaus, my plan didn't work. I can't get you two away."  
  
"We've talked about this before, Violet. No one gets left behind anymore."  
  
"Atens pan tocho?" Sunny asked nervously, which translates roughly to "But now what do we do?" She held up her arms and Klaus picked her. Her little face was worried and she gnawed nervously on the corner of her brother's shirt.  
  
"We can run. There are plenty of places we can go--I know we can lose him."  
  
"No," Violet whispered, "I don't think we'll ever lose him. He told me something before, when he had us in the house. He lets us get away every time--what we do has no effect."  
  
"What?" Klaus looked as shocked as she had expected. At least one thing is going as you planned tonight, she thought suddenly. "That doesn't make any sense."  
  
"He likes chasing us. It's rather like a hobby."  
  
"So you're saying that the only reason we're still alive is because he likes playing cat and mouse with us? Add to that this whole business with obsessions...." he shuddered. "This just somehow got more disturbing."  
  
"What are we going to do?" she asked, knowing the answer.  
  
"I don't know," Klaus said, setting Sunny on the bed and getting up to pace the room nervously. "I've never read anything about a situation like this before. Stalking soured by a sick obsession--is there anything else I should know while we formulate a plan?"  
  
Conflicting emotions fluttered through her brain like butterflies with broken wings. On one end she was sick of lying, and was afraid that whatever she withheld could be dangerous to her siblings. On the other hand, she didn't want to cause him any more distress--she knew how disturbed Klaus was by what he did know. She was also afraid that if Klaus knew what had happened that night, there was a chance he may do something dangerous and foolish, a risk she was not willing to take.  
  
"No," she said finally. "That's all." 


	5. chapter 5

~a/n: wow, I did *not* mean to swear like that in the last few chapters. My muse is jumping up and down in my head, chanting "you're not a wuss! You're not a wuss!" and I really got into that chapter there. Anyway, it doesn't seem like Olaf is the sort who would go out of his way not to swear. I apologize for that profanity and any more that my little muse (who at the moment is embodied in a little stuffed moose wearing a green Odyssey of the Mind shirt) and I can come up with.  
  
C h a p t e r F i v e  
  
Looking up at the dark, clouded sky, Violet prayed that the threatening rain was not foreshadowing her and her sibling's future. She sat down on the wide stone steps leading up to the hotel and leaned her head back against the railing to watch the sky.  
  
She felt so small and lost, out there alone in the dark. She pondered what had happened last night as thunder broke the silence and lightening ripped the sky apart. The rain fell, plastering her hair against her face and neck.  
  
What was wrong with her? She should hate Olaf--stalking her and her siblings, trying to kill them every step of the way, and then randomly kissed her, all much against her will.  
  
Right?  
  
She was supposed to hate him, had to, wanted to--but she couldn't. Violet couldn't bring herself to hate him, no matter how hard she tried. He was responsible for about 86.7% of the misery in her life (the other 13.3 could be attributed to Mr. Poe and the death of her parents), but here she was alone on the steps feeling pity for him. Pity, and a strange connection. Many years later, lying in her bed, she would feel that same connection, but not nearly as strong as she did that moment on the steps of the hotel. The feeling flushed over her, drowning her in that morbid attachment. She shut her eyes and her hands fluttered to her face again.  
  
She was rather alarmed when she realized she was smiling.  
  
***  
  
The tall slender man stood away from the window. It saddened him to see her down there in the rain, smiling to herself with her hands to her beautiful lips. On one hand, it was pleasant to see her smiling, and he would like to think she was thinking of him. However, he didn't want to think about her right now.  
  
Not like his will, no matter how strong, could keep her out of his head. He knew how sick this situation was. He knew that he had to stop this, kill this, get her out of his system. He lit a cigarette and puffed it angrily.  
  
"GODDAMN IT!" he shrieked suddenly, throwing his now-empty glass across the room. It shattered, and the smash made him feel a bit better. But the fact remained that he had done nothing productive that evening.  
  
He shuffled through the papers on the desk before him--the floor plan of the hotel, old letters, and the lyrics to a song he wrote many years ago. He had written it for Celery, Celery who looked so much like Violet, Celery who was still locked away in the little corner of his mind. Celery. He remembered the first time he sang the song to her, scratchily and leaning over the little old guitar that was missing a string. He knew he had sounded horrible, but Celery had laughed and clapped. That day, crouched next to that ancient space heater in that tiny apartment, was the day he asked her to move in. He had little to offer her, but she said yes. The memory brought a smile to his face.  
  
The memory brought a smile to his face as he read over the lyrics. God, but what the hell was her name? He had only ever called her Celery after he got to know her. He folded the faded paper and stuck it in his pocket, still smiling.  
  
He went back to the papers on the desk. There was a faded photograph of Esme standing in front of the building where she preformed her first show. Olaf had secretly pulled a few strings to get her the lead role in an unknown play, and it was worth the way her eyes lit up when he told her that she had gotten the part. He remembered a time when she was quiet, sweet, serene....but no she was a barely tolerable girl he couldn't stand to be away from for more than a week.  
  
Shut up, he thought to himself, you are not here alone to dredge up all your emotional baggage. You are up here to be alone, to figure out what in god's name you are going to do now.  
  
He turned back to the floor plan of the hotel and stared at it for about 16 minutes. He stared at it some more, but he saw nothing that would get them out of his mind.  
  
Celery. Esme. Violet. He growled in frustration, lit another cigarette, and settled back in his chair. He decided that tonight, he would relinquish control of his sanity to memory. 


	6. chapter 6

~a/n: Assuming you aren't in the middle of convulsions of horror on the floor after the last few chapters (even *I* admit this story is disturbing) you have reached chapter six. Glad you could make it.  
  
C h a p t e r S i x  
  
"Will you be okay alone?" Klaus asked her. The swelling had mostly gone down, although most of his face was still unnatural shades of yellow and brown.  
  
"Yes," Violet lied. "Will you?"  
  
He took a steadying breath. "I hope so. If you need us, Sunny and I will be right next door."  
  
"Goodnight," she said, fighting the urge to beg him not to leave.  
  
This is ridiculous, Violet, she told herself. You're almost fifteen years old now. You don't need your little brother to protect you from the dark.  
  
She felt her determination swell inside her. She didn't need help-she was more than capable of handling this situation. Still, she slept lightly and left the light on.  
  
She awoke suddenly around three a.m., blinking numbly about the room.  
  
"Morning," he said with a serene smile.  
  
She jumped up. This was what she had been afraid of. This was why she had left the light on, why she had nearly called Klaus back. Now, she wished she had.  
  
"How long have you been in here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  
  
He looked at his watch. "About an hour. I was wondering how long your siblings would keep sleeping in here with you. I think I've managed to talk Esme out of murdering Klaus. Your birthday is coming up, I understand, and I figured keeping your brother alive and in fairly good condition would be a nice present for you."  
  
"How did you know that?"  
  
"I had custody of you, remember? I saw your personal records. Your fifteenth birthday is in about a week." He smiled again, as strange smile that made her very uncomfortable. "Have you three decided what to do yet?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know, about myself and the troupe. Are you going to run again? Because I could arrange a nice place for you three to run to. Of course I'll follow, but I'll find away to keep the others way, which means Esme can't kill your brother. I promise I'll stay out of your way, and I'll only visit you every once in a while. Your siblings don't even have to know I'm still there--that'll be our little secret."  
  
Violet's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "No."  
  
"Come now, dear child, what do you want most in the world? You want your siblings to be safe. I can arrange that. You have my word that no harm will come to them. And it's not like I'm trying to get you to marry me again or anything. I'll protect you too, and all you'll have to do is talk to me every once in a while. Would that be so bloody unbearable?"  
  
"We don't need anything from you," she spat harshly.  
  
"Oh, Violetta, it hurts me to hear you say that."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
He started staring at her again; stared in that queer way that made her think he was reading her mind. "But I think you do," he said finally. "I think you do, but you don't want to admit it."  
  
"You're wrong," she said, more to herself than to him. "I DON'T care."  
  
He shrugged, but she could see he was growing angry. "We're still in denial, I see? Well, we'll just discuss this tomorrow and see how things look then." He got up angrily and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him with a heavy thud.  
  
Violet didn't know what to do. Deal with the devil, she told herself, don't give in. there's a catch, a hidden cost. But she still didn't believe herself.  
  
No, her mind told her, as she bundled under the covers and began to cry, you DO care. 


	7. chapter 7

~a/n: wowie wow wow!! SEVEN WHOLE CHAPTERS!! That's a lot! the only story I've ever written over FIVE chapters was a really bad original fiction story.but I don't wanna talk about that. Anyway, this chapter returns to the magickal Klaus subplot, so if you don't like that bit I'm terribly sorry.  
  
C h a p t e r S e v e n  
  
"I don't like that look," Violet said worriedly.  
  
"Brother?" Sunny asked, using one of the new words the kitchen staff had managed to teach her. She poked Klaus in an attempt to get his attention. "Brother?"  
  
Klaus made a small noise. He was sitting stiffly in the chair of room 664, and other than the little noise he hadn't moved in quite a while.  
  
"Klaus, wake up," Violet said loudly, clapping her hands in front of his face. It had no effect. She turned to Sunny. "What happened?"  
  
She shrugged. "No sai," she said helplessly, resuming her prodding.  
  
"Klaus?"  
  
"Brother?"  
  
He was looking pretty bad right then. His face and arms were littered with bruises, and the way he was sitting loosely in the chair and staring forward was very alarming. She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "KLAUS!"  
  
He sat up straight and looked around. "What?"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I-I dunno. I don't remember anything after I put Sunny to bed last night. Why?"  
  
"Have you seen yourself yet? You look like you fell down a flight of stairs."  
  
"Owe," Sunny added, pointing to his face.  
  
"I bet it was Esme. She did something. Was it like when you were hypnotized?"  
  
"No, not really. That time I didn't remember anything, but now everything is just muddled, like a wet photograph. What about you, Violet? Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," she responded numbly, lying again. She knew that what had happened to Klaus was directly linked to whatever had happened last night. We'll discuss this tomorrow, Olaf had stated angrily, and now she remembered exactly how dangerous he was when he was angry.  
  
"Atoce no waank," Sunny asked hopelessly, which meant something like "How do we explain this to the Winters?"  
  
"We can tell them I fell down the stairs," Klaus suggested without much conviction.  
  
"They know you're not a clumsy person. They'll see through it eventually."  
  
"I just hope Esme stops beating me up before that happens. How do we tell Mr. Winters that one of his guests is actually someone who used to have custody of us who decided that I remind her of someone she used to know and she decided that she has to take her anger out on me? Won't THAT be a fun discussion."  
  
"They have no reason to think that Esme and Olaf are anything less than model citizens. They wouldn't believe us anyway."  
  
Klaus knitted his eyebrows. "This is a rather difficult situation. I think all we can do-and I hate to admit it-is cross our fingers and hope for the best. If there's a logical choice, I have no idea what it is." He rested his head painfully in his hands and rubbed his temples.  
  
He's growing up too fast, Violet thought suddenly. He shouldn't have this much to worry about. None of us should.  
  
***  
  
As the day was winding down, Violet went into the bar to check on Klaus. He silently served an old fellow a beer and turned to her.  
  
"Hi," he said, not looking up at her. What she could see of his face looked horrible in the dim bar lighting.  
  
"You look horrible."  
  
"Gee thanks, that makes me feel a lot better."  
  
"Are you two planning to sleep in my room tonight?" she asked. Please, she pleaded secretly, please say yes.  
  
"If you want to know the truth, I'm afraid to. I think Esme's catching on about Olaf, so she's none too fond of you. I'm afraid that if I sleep in there she'll hurt you too. But can Sun-I mean, Sammy-sleep in your room tonight?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Mmmkay, well I'm gonna take care of these last few customers and then I'm heading up."  
  
She heard him announce, "Last orders, ladies and gentleman" as she left the room. She stopped in the kitchen, picked up Sunny, and started up towards her room.  
  
She curled into her bed beside Sunny, who was asleep nearly as soon as she hit the pillow, and waited. She knew he was coming, and she didn't want him to watch her again.  
  
True to form, he slipped him into her room around two thirty. She sat up and Sunny stretched luxuriously onto her pillow.  
  
"Ah, you're already up. Good morning, Violetta. How are you feeling on this fine autumn morning?"  
  
"I've been better," she said, wrapping her arms around herself.  
  
"That's too bad. Have you made up your mind about the little agreement we discussed yesterday?"  
  
"I don't know yet-I haven't had a chance to discuss it with Klaus yet. He's been a little distracted all day."  
  
He sighed and smiled. 'I did my best, but Esme is very strong willed. It's practically impossible to get her to do anything she doesn't want to. "  
  
"Right. So what are the conditions of this agreement?"  
  
"Oh, we're all business tonight, are we? Well, it's very simple. You and your cute little siblings get away again, and I'll find you a nice little place to stay. They don't even have to know I'm involved. I'll protect them, and you, and all you have to do is talk to me every once in a while. Like this-a nice, easy conversation. Would that be so difficult?"  
  
"What else?" she had a hard time believing that was all there was to this deal. He always had a trump card, something up his sleeve ready for an unsuspecting victim to fall into his trap. She waited for the smile, that sick smile like someone telling a joke at her expense.  
  
The smile didn't come. "What else? That's it. You don't need to worry about a thing." The grin that followed this was sweet, almost pleasant, and he seemed at least mildly sincere. "Pleeeaaaaase?" he pleaded, folding his hands like he was begging.  
  
"I.I don't know. I just don't know." She threw up her hands and repeated, "I just don't know."  
  
"Alright," he said amiably, "well, I'll come see you tomorrow night and see if you've made up your mind yet. No pressure."  
  
He got up and walked over to her, brushing the stray hairs off her forehead and smiling. He leaned down and kissed her softly, then left her alone and very confused.  
  
"Just when I think I've got him figured out," she whispered, standing and rubbing her hands against her arms to encourage her circulation to get back to work, "he goes and does something to make everything I've learned mean nothing." 


	8. chapter 8

~a/n: well hello Clarisse. *vicious psychotic grin* Mmmkay folks. This is chapter 8, the final chapter of this second story. This may or may not be a trilogy-I dunno yet. We'll have to see about that, won't we? I look back on all the memories I've shared with, err.myself as I wrote this story. All alone in my little home I spent hours pouring my heart, soul, and muse into this random piece Violaf horror, and how much fun I had swearing at my computer as it froze after an hour of unsaved brilliance, wishing to god I could recreate the magic I lost when it did so, and most of all the knowledge that one day I would be able to breath easily when I get a new review, as I wouldn't care if I was being flamed anymore. I had a blast writing it and I'm glad I got to share it with you fine people. I hope you got as much enjoyment out of it as I did. And I'm sorry it doesn't seem to have much direction.  
  
C h a p t e r E i g h t  
  
"We need to get out of here." Violet sounded decisive. Of course, it was easy to be decisive when you could see the terrified face of your little sister and the shadows of old bruises on your brother's face. "There's nothing we can do but get out of here."  
  
"Where will we go?" Klaus asked nervously, glancing around the empty room. "We don't even know where we are right now. How can we find a safe place away from them?"  
  
Violet knew all too well that there was no place they wouldn't be followed. She barely cared about herself anymore; she just knew she had to get Klaus away from Esme. Hopefully Olaf would follow without her.  
  
She knew better than to hope for peace from him, but at least there was a chance for Klaus. She fixed her mind on that as they prepared to leave.  
  
***  
  
The moon was a cold sliver in the black sky that autumn night. The only sound was the crunch of fallen leaves under their feet as the figures vanished into the darkness. If they'd spared a final look at the hotel they would have seen a thin face of a man, sinking slowly into a shadowy smile.  
  
"Ah, the music starts again and the dancers pair off. Go wherever you will, my darling Violetta, but don't worry.I'll always be there. In the dark places I'll hide, watching for you. All I have to offer you is my vigilance, and my adoration. And trust me, my dear, you already have that. So run." 


End file.
